"Staring at the stars at night, isn't it an awesome sight? Heavens lights are looking down, tonight upon this sleepy town."
-Scott Kubala, "Sextant and Soliloquy"
An intimate knowledge of the sky helped maritime navigators throughout history. For example, Polynesian sailors, could accurately determine their position in the ocean using only the stars, allowing them to safely navigate between remote islands without getting lost while traveling across thousands of miles of open ocean in the South Pacific. Western sailors from Europe used the Sun and the Pole Star to estimate their latitude. and make a rough guess at their longitude.
In 1731, the sextant was invented, a device which can accurately measure the angular distance between heavenly bodies. With the sextant, latitude could be determined to within a nautical mile or two. Using this device, explorers could also finally calculate their longitude using the lunar-distance method, which required a book of astronomical tables, though this was a difficult process.
So, the first astronomers were farmers, sailors, and religious leaders. Not much later, astronomy became a pursuit to gather knowledge and understand the Universe, purely to satisfy human curiosity. Greek astronomers started this systematic investigation, which was picked up much later in Europe.
The quest to quench the thirst of knowledge has proliferated now at such a rate that we've reached the point of technological development where astronomers have discovered a group of at least five planets – with hints of two more – circling around a star in an arrangement similar to our own solar system. Confirmation of the extra planets would make this the highest tally of alien worlds ever spotted around a single star. The planets and their own sun-like star are about 127 light-years from Earth, astronomers with the European Southern Observatory said. It is one of just 15 planetary systems known to have more than three worlds.
If I ever lose my ability to have some kind of place to get a good view of the stars above, then I shall surely lose my bearings and focus in life. The universe has proven above all to be a trusted roadmap, a compass true. When I'm feeling emotionally blocked up, when I can't seem to move forward with my thoughts, a good walk under the night sky is always usually guaranteed to do the trick.
Somehow, the lights in the night sky have always been a trusted friend and have been an inviting ear to my problems in life. And by the end of that seemingly one-sided conversation, I feel as though somehow as though I've worked through all of those problems that have perplexed me, as if I've been through some kind of cosmic therapy.
So what is this connection that we have with the universe? What is this brotherhood that humankind shares with the stars? What sort of cosmic connection drives us forward to reach out into the vast unknown searching for meaning? Perhaps it's something as simple as the primal bond that we have with all of creation, in that all of the elements of the universe are essentially the same. And we look out there, and should, at least in a sense, be able to see inward. I've always thought it was intruiging that the deep sea currents of the world's oceans seemed to be strangely reflective of the way blood circulates through the human body; as if we were designed from a common cosmic template.
But often, aside from these deep philosophical and scientific queries, it's simply enough to gaze into the vastness of the night sky as you appreciate the beauty of the vastness of the universe, and to stand in awe when it somehow manages to speak back to you.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Saving Vinyl
"This version of the world will not be here long, It is already gone It is already gone."
T-Bone Burnett, "Palestine, Texas"
Murray "Music Man" Gershenz has spent 72 years amassing his musical collection. He has century-old operatic performances captured on Edison cylinder tubes, 1930s-era Big Band crooners on fragile 78-rpm discs, early rockers on 45s, show tunes on LPs and pop artists on cassette tapes and CDs. The collection is crammed into homemade shelves in a two-story cinderblock building, as well as two nearby warehouses. Last summer, the 88-year-old Gershenz announced his intention to close his walk-in and mail-order record business in order to pursue his dreams of being an actor. He said he hoped to find a museum or college willing to acquire his $3-million trove. That hasn't worked out, he said. So his next stop could be the dumpster.
Like "Murray the Music Man", I also had at one time accumulated a very large collection of vinyl. Not nearly as large as a warehouse full mind you, but impressive enough I suppose. Much of it included out of print items, imported U.K. vinyl, bootlegged material, a rare mono edition of Sgt. Peppers, and on and on. Some very collectable material, and all of it holding sentimental value. And it was an eclectic collection covering many different genres of music. It was not a hobby perhaps as much as an obsession in my teenage years.
At the beginning of my first marriage, which for me was at a very early age and at the beginning of my broadcast career, I needed cash to fund my future plans. I sold that collection, lock, stock and barrel to a well known music store in downtown St. Louis for a little cash on hand to get a bit of a start and some deposit money for rent on a place. That marriage lasted ten years, and resulted in three great kids and a grandchild, so a stunning success by a number of qualifiers.
I still visit that music store from time to time, and I browse through the albums, and I sometimes run across a title or two, and I swear that it feels really familiar in my hand, like it may have been mine at one time. And then I think about the fact that it could have been just sitting in that shelf for a couple of decades, unwanted and unrecognized for it's value. Kind of sad really, and it makes me think about this guy and his warehouse full of albums and how much more poignant that story really is. But as a friend pointed out, old dreams give way to new ones. And may we all be granted the wisdom of knowing when to let go of the old to make room for the new. But every now and then, it's still nice to be able to stop by that old warehouse and browse a little, and remember what was, and what might have been.
T-Bone Burnett, "Palestine, Texas"
Murray "Music Man" Gershenz has spent 72 years amassing his musical collection. He has century-old operatic performances captured on Edison cylinder tubes, 1930s-era Big Band crooners on fragile 78-rpm discs, early rockers on 45s, show tunes on LPs and pop artists on cassette tapes and CDs. The collection is crammed into homemade shelves in a two-story cinderblock building, as well as two nearby warehouses. Last summer, the 88-year-old Gershenz announced his intention to close his walk-in and mail-order record business in order to pursue his dreams of being an actor. He said he hoped to find a museum or college willing to acquire his $3-million trove. That hasn't worked out, he said. So his next stop could be the dumpster.
Like "Murray the Music Man", I also had at one time accumulated a very large collection of vinyl. Not nearly as large as a warehouse full mind you, but impressive enough I suppose. Much of it included out of print items, imported U.K. vinyl, bootlegged material, a rare mono edition of Sgt. Peppers, and on and on. Some very collectable material, and all of it holding sentimental value. And it was an eclectic collection covering many different genres of music. It was not a hobby perhaps as much as an obsession in my teenage years.
At the beginning of my first marriage, which for me was at a very early age and at the beginning of my broadcast career, I needed cash to fund my future plans. I sold that collection, lock, stock and barrel to a well known music store in downtown St. Louis for a little cash on hand to get a bit of a start and some deposit money for rent on a place. That marriage lasted ten years, and resulted in three great kids and a grandchild, so a stunning success by a number of qualifiers.
I still visit that music store from time to time, and I browse through the albums, and I sometimes run across a title or two, and I swear that it feels really familiar in my hand, like it may have been mine at one time. And then I think about the fact that it could have been just sitting in that shelf for a couple of decades, unwanted and unrecognized for it's value. Kind of sad really, and it makes me think about this guy and his warehouse full of albums and how much more poignant that story really is. But as a friend pointed out, old dreams give way to new ones. And may we all be granted the wisdom of knowing when to let go of the old to make room for the new. But every now and then, it's still nice to be able to stop by that old warehouse and browse a little, and remember what was, and what might have been.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Welcome!
"I cannot move, my fingers are all in a knot."
-Bob Dylan, Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
I have to imagine that the computer guy in this outfit, my son, after finishing up work on this website, must have felt the way Bobby Dylan did when he wrote that song. My job was to sit back in the comfort of my chair and cheer him on, and approve everything. And that is no exaggeration. All the design, all the choice in content, everything down to the font came from Mike Kubala, the brainchild of Delta Triad Productions. And I just kicked back and said, "Wow, that looks awesome!"
Of course, this site has been in production for some time to be fair. I'm sure there were many months of thinking about how things would actually look and working out the functionality of it all. And being on my payroll isn't keeping anyone employed full-time at this point either, so such a great time consuming project such as this becomes a labor of love and it reaches it's natural end as it does.
The project cames to it's conclusion just about a week ago while Mike was supposed to be enjoying himself on vacation in North Carolina. Suddenly, the project flew from the development stages into reality. And like most creators who find the time to get a little bit a much needed rest and the time to escape the demands of their everyday world, he was reenergized and finished something that it seemed so long ago he started.
I hope you enjoy my website, not so much really as a celebration of all things ME, for I was able to discern the functionality of my ego a long time ago, I think and I'm able to leave it at the door at will. But if you appreciate the craftsmanship that went into putting this site together, as well as the future improvements that are promised, I'll be happy for my son and his work. And of course, I won't mind at all if you enjoy some of my stories in song along the way. All the more reason for me to stick around a while longer and keep doing what I do.
-Bob Dylan, Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
I have to imagine that the computer guy in this outfit, my son, after finishing up work on this website, must have felt the way Bobby Dylan did when he wrote that song. My job was to sit back in the comfort of my chair and cheer him on, and approve everything. And that is no exaggeration. All the design, all the choice in content, everything down to the font came from Mike Kubala, the brainchild of Delta Triad Productions. And I just kicked back and said, "Wow, that looks awesome!"
Of course, this site has been in production for some time to be fair. I'm sure there were many months of thinking about how things would actually look and working out the functionality of it all. And being on my payroll isn't keeping anyone employed full-time at this point either, so such a great time consuming project such as this becomes a labor of love and it reaches it's natural end as it does.
The project cames to it's conclusion just about a week ago while Mike was supposed to be enjoying himself on vacation in North Carolina. Suddenly, the project flew from the development stages into reality. And like most creators who find the time to get a little bit a much needed rest and the time to escape the demands of their everyday world, he was reenergized and finished something that it seemed so long ago he started.
I hope you enjoy my website, not so much really as a celebration of all things ME, for I was able to discern the functionality of my ego a long time ago, I think and I'm able to leave it at the door at will. But if you appreciate the craftsmanship that went into putting this site together, as well as the future improvements that are promised, I'll be happy for my son and his work. And of course, I won't mind at all if you enjoy some of my stories in song along the way. All the more reason for me to stick around a while longer and keep doing what I do.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Rootstime Reviews "The Common Ground"
Rootstime reviewed my cd, "The Common Ground." I've included the review as it appeared on the Rootstime website and the translation.
The Common Ground van Scott Kubala is een vorig jaar verschenen EP (5 songs) die uw gewaardeerde aandacht verdient. Scott ziet er op de wat wazige hoes met zijn sweater-met-kap een beetje uit als een idealistische zeeman, zo eentje van het type dat in zijn vrije tijd wel eens een oceaan oversteekt op een zelfgevlochten vlot. Ook het verlaten en ietwat onherbergzame strand op de achterzijde doet zeemansroots vermoeden. Edoch, wie naar Scotts myspace surft, treft daar een heer met een netjes getrimde ringbaard en een gitaar aan – vooral de ringbaard is getrimd, zoveel weze duidelijk.
Half Elvis Costello, half Graham Parker, kunt u er zich iets bij voorstellen? Een EP is natuurlijk maar een flits, krap twintig minuten, vijf liedjes. Maar toch, als dat vijf goede liedjes zijn en u zet hem drie keer na mekaar op, dan hebt u zich ook een uur vermaakt. En in het geval van ‘The Common Ground’ zijn het goede songs. Gelukkig toeval of niet, maar dankzij een –ik doe een gok- redelijk rudimentaire productie onstaat een geluid dat erg natuurlijk klink.
Gitaren erg dicht vooraan in de mix, nogal wat echo op Scott’s stem, een al bij al erg organisch geluid. Zelfs de drumcomputer op een van de songs klinkt overtuigend. Scott’s songs zijn goed zonder uitzonderlijk te zijn. Het meest doet hij denken aan Bruce Cockburn, met de stem en ook een beetje de sound van Bob Geldof in de jaren ’90, en dat alles, zoals hij het zelf noemt, door de Bob Dylan-filter gehaald. De moeite waard!
Duke J
Translated to English (somewhat...sorry, I did my best!)...
The Common Ground of Scott Kubala is a last year's EP (5 songs) that your esteemed attention. Scott looks at the somewhat hazy on his sleeve sweatshirt with hood-a bit like an idealistic sailor, as one of the type in his spare time, sometimes an ocean crossing on a raft itself braided. The deserted and somewhat desolate beach on the back does sailor roots suggest. Nevertheless, due to Scott who surf myspace,'ll find a gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard and a guitar - especially the beard has been trimmed as much Wezelaar clear.
Half Elvis Costello, Graham Parker half, there is something you imagine? An EP is just a flash, barely twenty minutes, five songs. Yet, if five good songs and you put him three times in a row, you are also entertained one hours. And in the case of 'The Common Ground "are good songs. Happy coincidence or not, but thanks to one-I'm feeling lucky, pretty rudimentary production is your sound very natural sound.
Guitars are very close in front in the mix, quite a few echoes of Scott's voice, all in all a very organic sound. Even the drum machine on one of the songs sound convincing. Scott's songs are good without exception. The most it resembles Bruce Cockburn, with the voice and the sound a bit of Bob Geldof in the 90s, and all that, as he calls it, by Bob Dylan filter removed. Worth it!
Duke J
The Common Ground van Scott Kubala is een vorig jaar verschenen EP (5 songs) die uw gewaardeerde aandacht verdient. Scott ziet er op de wat wazige hoes met zijn sweater-met-kap een beetje uit als een idealistische zeeman, zo eentje van het type dat in zijn vrije tijd wel eens een oceaan oversteekt op een zelfgevlochten vlot. Ook het verlaten en ietwat onherbergzame strand op de achterzijde doet zeemansroots vermoeden. Edoch, wie naar Scotts myspace surft, treft daar een heer met een netjes getrimde ringbaard en een gitaar aan – vooral de ringbaard is getrimd, zoveel weze duidelijk.
Half Elvis Costello, half Graham Parker, kunt u er zich iets bij voorstellen? Een EP is natuurlijk maar een flits, krap twintig minuten, vijf liedjes. Maar toch, als dat vijf goede liedjes zijn en u zet hem drie keer na mekaar op, dan hebt u zich ook een uur vermaakt. En in het geval van ‘The Common Ground’ zijn het goede songs. Gelukkig toeval of niet, maar dankzij een –ik doe een gok- redelijk rudimentaire productie onstaat een geluid dat erg natuurlijk klink.
Gitaren erg dicht vooraan in de mix, nogal wat echo op Scott’s stem, een al bij al erg organisch geluid. Zelfs de drumcomputer op een van de songs klinkt overtuigend. Scott’s songs zijn goed zonder uitzonderlijk te zijn. Het meest doet hij denken aan Bruce Cockburn, met de stem en ook een beetje de sound van Bob Geldof in de jaren ’90, en dat alles, zoals hij het zelf noemt, door de Bob Dylan-filter gehaald. De moeite waard!
Duke J
Translated to English (somewhat...sorry, I did my best!)...
The Common Ground of Scott Kubala is a last year's EP (5 songs) that your esteemed attention. Scott looks at the somewhat hazy on his sleeve sweatshirt with hood-a bit like an idealistic sailor, as one of the type in his spare time, sometimes an ocean crossing on a raft itself braided. The deserted and somewhat desolate beach on the back does sailor roots suggest. Nevertheless, due to Scott who surf myspace,'ll find a gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard and a guitar - especially the beard has been trimmed as much Wezelaar clear.
Half Elvis Costello, Graham Parker half, there is something you imagine? An EP is just a flash, barely twenty minutes, five songs. Yet, if five good songs and you put him three times in a row, you are also entertained one hours. And in the case of 'The Common Ground "are good songs. Happy coincidence or not, but thanks to one-I'm feeling lucky, pretty rudimentary production is your sound very natural sound.
Guitars are very close in front in the mix, quite a few echoes of Scott's voice, all in all a very organic sound. Even the drum machine on one of the songs sound convincing. Scott's songs are good without exception. The most it resembles Bruce Cockburn, with the voice and the sound a bit of Bob Geldof in the 90s, and all that, as he calls it, by Bob Dylan filter removed. Worth it!
Duke J
"A Crucible of Innocence"
A dear friend of mine, Roger W. Forsythe, has written a poetic novel, titled, "A Crucible of Innocence". The novel takes inspiration from a time that I was honored to share with the author and a close group of friends. The following is a synopsis of the book found on the Barnes and Noble website.
"When a health crisis reignites the conflict he has with his boss, Conrad Scott quits the Bethel, California "World-Democrat" and takes five part-time jobs-one minding the graveyard shift at a radio station haunted by its former owner. Having faced the supernatural before as a Civil War re-enactor, Conrad crosses the extreme in what soon escalates as a boxing match exorcism. It succeeds.
By the time his friends find him, he has survived 90 hours without sleep. After healing two weeks in closed-ward asylum, he realizes his was not the only demon which had to be confronted.
As old wounds heal, in and out of work, deeper cuts slice fresh the scar anew. Four months later, when everyday traumas bleed free of tourniquet-tightened control, Conrad swallows 37 sleeping pills.
Throughout, imagination wrecks havoc on the world in which he is forced to live. These fantasies cast him as the assistant wireless operator aboard "Titanic," a Union soldier dying in Antietam's corn field, and a corporal in Omaha Beach's bloody wake.
Like an angel pinhead dancing the fine rhapsody of madmen and genius, Conrad envisions himself borne by Christ through the wilderness, as Icarus skydiving into the drop zone, as a barkeep serving the literary immortals, as Adam pioneering the American Eden, as King Arthur being handed the Holy Grail, and-finally-as John Keats (to whom the novel is dedicated) . . . himself, on prior passage.
With angels everywhere protecting him, Conrad's self-descension is cut short to the quick by Destiny reconciled. Before Dr. Aleksandre Stavros can sign and date his release, the first of the New Beat Romantics has committed himself to liquidating all assets andgoing wherever God leads him.
His spirit then travels out of his body, joining Henry David Thoreau, Jack Kerouac, Jack London, Stephen Crane, and Robert Louis Stevenson as they play cards in Shakespeare's kitchen. They confront him, console him, and challenge him to consecrate his life before God. He does so. When Keats joins in impromptu reunion, their spirits unite as one.
As the loose ribbons of present existence gift-like wrap an Independence Day shared joyous in the park, Conrad's spirit steps easily aside to allow Kerouac and Keats the rare opportunity of enjoying life beyond the great perpetuity.
Genius, he has discovered, is as common as the Holy Spirit about each of us embraced: Easy comes the beatnik laughing. "
The following is a review of "A Crucible of Innocence" by John Helman found in Allbooks Reviews.
"A crucible is defined as a container in which the contents can be heated to extremely high temperatures to either purify the contents by burning off impurities or cause them to bind together to form new compounds. It is into such an environment that James Conrad Scott is thrown. The great that is applied to his own crucible is from the force of the life he leads and, the lives of the past he allows to affect his current existence and what an interesting existence it is. Since this is only Volume One of the saga of James Conrad Scott, the purification in the crucible is in no way complete, but it is off to a fascinating start.
The author, Mr. Forsythe, has used his poetic gifts to create a special experience here. Reading this book is not something that can be done in an evening or on a weekend. It must be done with no timeframe of completion in mind. It is written in a style where time must be taken for re-reading, contemplating, and savoring. Only a poet can do this. The books within this book and the poems of James Conrad Scott that are included by the author serve to illustrate the complexity of the spirit of the individual. This author seems to come very close.
This book is recommended to any reader who wants for something more in a book. It is definitely not 'popular' fiction. It is not a 'good read.' It does make for great and worthwhile reading and that is what this reviewer seeks.
Roger W. Forsythe has published three volumes of poetry as well as a chapter of Civil War history prior to this foray into poetic fiction. Highly recommended."
As a tribute to by friend Roger, I have dedicated my song, "The Road to Enswell" (which will be released in 2011), to him, and his literary character, Conrad Scott. I think of you often, Roger, and wish you the very best with your novel.
The Road to Enswell
by Scott Kubala
Where did you go? How many paths were yours to take?
You thought you knew the road, and all the twists and turns you’d make.
But it’s turned really clear, this life is really queer,
You’re facing fears you couldn’t shake.
What about the sights you’ve seen, and all those thoughts that fill your head?
Do they look much like the words and pictures from the books that you have read?
Did you find yourself surprised, at life’s pages, all those lies?
Reaffirmed by all the things they’ve said.
Guided by the light of day, there lies the path that takes you home.
It’s been so many years, so many towns through which you’ve roamed.
You’re like a child again, they’ll ask you where you’ve been,
The deal is done, your hand is shown.
"A Crucible of Innocence" can be found at all good bookstores, as well as online at Amazon.com.
Read more: http://www.myspace.com/scottkubala/blog?page=2#ixzz0w2Zrl1Gf
"When a health crisis reignites the conflict he has with his boss, Conrad Scott quits the Bethel, California "World-Democrat" and takes five part-time jobs-one minding the graveyard shift at a radio station haunted by its former owner. Having faced the supernatural before as a Civil War re-enactor, Conrad crosses the extreme in what soon escalates as a boxing match exorcism. It succeeds.
By the time his friends find him, he has survived 90 hours without sleep. After healing two weeks in closed-ward asylum, he realizes his was not the only demon which had to be confronted.
As old wounds heal, in and out of work, deeper cuts slice fresh the scar anew. Four months later, when everyday traumas bleed free of tourniquet-tightened control, Conrad swallows 37 sleeping pills.
Throughout, imagination wrecks havoc on the world in which he is forced to live. These fantasies cast him as the assistant wireless operator aboard "Titanic," a Union soldier dying in Antietam's corn field, and a corporal in Omaha Beach's bloody wake.
Like an angel pinhead dancing the fine rhapsody of madmen and genius, Conrad envisions himself borne by Christ through the wilderness, as Icarus skydiving into the drop zone, as a barkeep serving the literary immortals, as Adam pioneering the American Eden, as King Arthur being handed the Holy Grail, and-finally-as John Keats (to whom the novel is dedicated) . . . himself, on prior passage.
With angels everywhere protecting him, Conrad's self-descension is cut short to the quick by Destiny reconciled. Before Dr. Aleksandre Stavros can sign and date his release, the first of the New Beat Romantics has committed himself to liquidating all assets andgoing wherever God leads him.
His spirit then travels out of his body, joining Henry David Thoreau, Jack Kerouac, Jack London, Stephen Crane, and Robert Louis Stevenson as they play cards in Shakespeare's kitchen. They confront him, console him, and challenge him to consecrate his life before God. He does so. When Keats joins in impromptu reunion, their spirits unite as one.
As the loose ribbons of present existence gift-like wrap an Independence Day shared joyous in the park, Conrad's spirit steps easily aside to allow Kerouac and Keats the rare opportunity of enjoying life beyond the great perpetuity.
Genius, he has discovered, is as common as the Holy Spirit about each of us embraced: Easy comes the beatnik laughing. "
The following is a review of "A Crucible of Innocence" by John Helman found in Allbooks Reviews.
"A crucible is defined as a container in which the contents can be heated to extremely high temperatures to either purify the contents by burning off impurities or cause them to bind together to form new compounds. It is into such an environment that James Conrad Scott is thrown. The great that is applied to his own crucible is from the force of the life he leads and, the lives of the past he allows to affect his current existence and what an interesting existence it is. Since this is only Volume One of the saga of James Conrad Scott, the purification in the crucible is in no way complete, but it is off to a fascinating start.
The author, Mr. Forsythe, has used his poetic gifts to create a special experience here. Reading this book is not something that can be done in an evening or on a weekend. It must be done with no timeframe of completion in mind. It is written in a style where time must be taken for re-reading, contemplating, and savoring. Only a poet can do this. The books within this book and the poems of James Conrad Scott that are included by the author serve to illustrate the complexity of the spirit of the individual. This author seems to come very close.
This book is recommended to any reader who wants for something more in a book. It is definitely not 'popular' fiction. It is not a 'good read.' It does make for great and worthwhile reading and that is what this reviewer seeks.
Roger W. Forsythe has published three volumes of poetry as well as a chapter of Civil War history prior to this foray into poetic fiction. Highly recommended."
As a tribute to by friend Roger, I have dedicated my song, "The Road to Enswell" (which will be released in 2011), to him, and his literary character, Conrad Scott. I think of you often, Roger, and wish you the very best with your novel.
The Road to Enswell
by Scott Kubala
Where did you go? How many paths were yours to take?
You thought you knew the road, and all the twists and turns you’d make.
But it’s turned really clear, this life is really queer,
You’re facing fears you couldn’t shake.
What about the sights you’ve seen, and all those thoughts that fill your head?
Do they look much like the words and pictures from the books that you have read?
Did you find yourself surprised, at life’s pages, all those lies?
Reaffirmed by all the things they’ve said.
Guided by the light of day, there lies the path that takes you home.
It’s been so many years, so many towns through which you’ve roamed.
You’re like a child again, they’ll ask you where you’ve been,
The deal is done, your hand is shown.
"A Crucible of Innocence" can be found at all good bookstores, as well as online at Amazon.com.
Read more: http://www.myspace.com/scottkubala/blog?page=2#ixzz0w2Zrl1Gf
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